


Acid Drips From Me To You

by Lortan



Series: While I was listening on Spotify [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellatrix is about as good a mom as you would expect her to be, December by Ricky Montgomery, Diary Tom is giving out advice now i guess, F/M, Harry is Unstable, Harry is a Little Shit, It goes as you'd expect, Literally unhealthy i mean acid candy can't be good for you, My tagging is flawless, Porcelain teacup abuse, Spiders mentioned because i like spiders, Unhealthy Obsession, acid pops, bellatrix raises harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lortan/pseuds/Lortan
Summary: All that Harry can find to eat are acid pops. There's a jar on the table, another on the counter, and an entire box in the cupboard.Harry shrugs, swipes an already opened and clearly half eaten acid pop from where it sits in its sticky wrapper on the counter, and sticks it in his mouth before leaving the kitchen.They can make it another day, at least.After Voldemort's seeming death, Bellatrix snatches baby Harry and goes into hiding with him. She perhaps has a few bad habits that rub off onto him, and after he finds out that she isn't his mother, things change.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Harry Potter
Series: While I was listening on Spotify [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1532363
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	Acid Drips From Me To You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt "acid pop" as part of the Houses Competition, hence the theme throughout. Apparently this was the first thing that popped into my head for that prompt? It was actually a surprisingly nice prompt to work with, though. I might do more with it in the future, or just other candies.

All that Harry can find to eat are acid pops. There's a jar on the table, another on the counter, and an entire box in the cupboard.

This has been how he knows it's time to leave the house since he was young. When he can't find any more food at home, it's time to look elsewhere.

Still, when he looks at the wrappers on the table, he wonders if they can't survive another few days like this before it becomes truly pressing. They've done it before.

Harry shrugs, swipes an already opened and clearly half eaten acid pop from where it sits in its sticky wrapper on the counter, and sticks it in his mouth before leaving the kitchen.

They can make it another day, at least.

_ YOU KNOW WHO DEFEATED!! _

_ The cause of death of He Who Shall Not Be Named is unknown, but has been confirmed by numerous hopeful Aurors! The remains were discovered at the dwelling of James Potter and Lily Potter in Godric's Hollow this morning. Bodies of the aforementioned were found on scene, but their infant son Harry is currently missing. Experts suspect that the well known witch and wizard must have defeated You Know Who and died in the process. At least one body shows signs of an unforgivable curse. Further speculation cannot be proven until more evidence is collected, and Harry Potter is found. _

When Harry was five, he found the article.

When he was five, he was told that Bellatrix wasn't his mother.

She told him this herself.

"You've got filthy mudblood eyes!" She'd shrieked, and thrown her teacup at him. "Just like your dirty,  _ filthy mother! I hate her! She deserved the death that she got, Harry! You would've too, if you hadn't Black blood! But you're still filthy! Your eyes are filthy!"  _ He'd not understood what that meant, at the time. How awful a thing it was to say to someone, that they were in any way reminiscent of a  _ mudblood. _ He hadn't understood what was happening, either. He'd been quaking, crying, clutching the old newspaper issue in his fist and and wiping tea off of his face, realizing that Bella, who had raised him, wasn't his real mother.

His real mother had died. And she deserved it. And Harry could have too, because he was  _ filthy. _

He'd just asked her what "speculation" meant. It was a big word, and he didn't know it, and there was a limited amount of reading material in the house that a child could make sense of, and not much else for him to do to keep himself from being bored in the big, locked-doors house.

He wanted to go outside, but Bella told him it was scary out there, and there were monsters called "muggles". He was safer indoors, all the time.

The newspaper was all he had left.

Instead of a new word, he gained shattered porcelain on the ground, hours of screaming, and a terrible new secret that would keep him up at night more than nightmares ever did.

_ Every sweet has its sour, every evil its good. _

"Every sweet has its sour, every evil its good." He told himself aloud at seven, staring in a mirror with an acid pop half dissolved in his mouth, burning through his tongue.

Maybe acid pops didn't fit the metaphor so well. But they were the only candy in the house. Soon to be the only food in the house.

Acid pops were always the only thing left.

And if Harry was filthy, maybe that was okay. Maybe even that evil dirty blood at him could have some benefit. Maybe the dirty colour of his eyes, that Bellatrix both hated and laughed to compare to one of her favourite curses, could be turned from sour to only sweet.

He left the acid pop lying on the edge of the bathroom sink, knowing that someone would find it and finish it.

Someone always did.

_ Only in my darkest moments, can I see the light. I think I'm prone to getting blinded when it's bright…. _

At nine, Harry had never heard a radio before.

He'd never left the house before. He'd never seen other people before. He'd never been outside, breathing in the smoke and smog of the darkened alley of hags and sharp smelling shops before.

Bella yanked his cloak further over his face, so that he could barely see his own feet, and shoved him through a doorway. He snarled in response as he stumbled, and sidestepped the elbow she jabbed at his head as the door slammed shut behind her.

Years of practice had made him adept at dodging both her elbows and her teacups.

He wrestled his cloak off himself, glaring at his shoes as he did, then looked up to see where he was.

A girl in white stared back at him, and grinned with pointy teeth. "I wanna see you with your head wide open…." She trilled, matching the voice of the man singing through the radio.

Then they were led past shelves of books and tables displaying artifacts, ingredients, and souvenirs, and left in a closet that opened up into a room of figures wearing masks.

Like an afterthought, Bellatrix cursed and dug into her skirts, ruffling through them until she had retrieved two similar face coverings and an acid pop. One mask she shoved on herself, the other she gave him, gently laying it in his hands and crooning approvingly as he put it on.

"Handsome!" She crowed as she unwrapped the sweet and licked it before offering it. He leaned forward and closed his mouth around it, stepping back to look up at her and smile, heart speeding from her approval. She giggled and walked away, leaving him alone.

He climbed up on an abandoned chair and watched her move around the room, struggling to meet her eyes.

_ You are what you eat you are what you eat you are what you eat you are what you eat you are- _

At eleven , Harry finds a diary. It's obviously handled, black leather corners worn round by fidgety hands and the writing on the cover almost smoothed away. Bellatrix left it on the table in her favourite room to sit in, next to an unlit candle and a broken wand that isn't hers.

Or at least he thinks it's a diary. It's empty.

So he decides to write in it.

"If you are what you eat," he writes, nonsense dripping from his mind as acidic saliva drips from the corner of his mouth when he twists his lips. "Am I going to eat through things too?"

His words disappear into the page, and the acid does too, smoking as it seeps in.

" _That depends_." Is his response in neat slanted script, " _Do you want to?_ "

He thinks of Bella, unattainable even now. He thinks of her with spiders crawling up her hands, of her kissing him goodnight, of her hitting him and cursing him, of her gleeful expression when he throws knives and hexes back, of her pulling him close, of her matching his mask to hers, of sleepy nights and wild hair and tight corsets and violence and screaming and giggles and acid pops, burning a hole in his tongue like her thoughts can so easily burn a hole in his tainted, filthy heart.

"Yes." A pause, "I want to eat my blood right into hers."

_ The kitchen is empty, but for a half eaten acid pop and a million secrets, screaming from the cupboard. _

**Author's Note:**

> And then they lived terribly ever after. Voldemort probably came back to life, they probably killed a bunch of muggles, Harry probably found out that Bella has a husband at some point and went through his entire teen angst phase in a weekend before he was even thirteen, or something, and it was just a real mess all over the place. They probably fucked before Harry was legal, too.
> 
> And no, I do not feel any need to repent for anything I have ever written. This is probably one of my lesser sins to be honest, and none of them shall ever make me feel remorse for my ways. My degenerate soul can and will continue to create abominations, and so long as I can sow my seeds of chaos, others will one way or another enjoy them. I may be going to hell, but I'll see you there, you poor unfortunate souls. So until we meet again in the fiery depths of a pit dedicated to just a certain kind of wrong, thanks for reading, and byeeeeeeeee!


End file.
